Young Guns Fanfic
by GRIFFINofEMERALD
Summary: This fanfic follows the Mexican-Indian regulator, who is presumed to be dead by remaining gang members (Billy and Henry), but actually survived the ordeal, and is now roaming through the southern U.S. Chavez is thrown into a world of confusion and new struggles when he suddenly finds himself on the beaches of Galveston, Texas. What will Chavez do in this strange new place?
1. Young Guns Fanfic Ch1 Silence

_Just a quick note that any characters from the actually young guns movies are not owned by me, and that although the Moody family were actual people, this story is not relevant to the time period of their existence or to their real life events and personalities. The Moody Mansion in Galveston (although not really built during the time that the story takes place) is a real place. Trust me. I've been there. Like, have literally been inside the Moody Mansion. Look it up. This story is mostly about Chavez and involves an OC pairing with him and Jean McCormick. The appearance of other characters from young guns is not promised but I will look into including them if I can. Like I said, this is about Chavez. Let me know what you think and enjoy._

**...**

Ch.1 Silence

**Dear Mr. Phalen, I'm gonna' keep this part of the letter short and sweet. I'm dying. You already know that. But I'm afraid that I will not live to see the pardon that we have worked so hard to be granted. Some people say that a man knows when he is going to die. Well, that may be true for me at least, but not all others.**

**Now I'll give you the main reason why I have written this letter. When I die, a history book worth of stories will die with me. Stories that were real. One of these stories is the story of my good friend Chavez. Now I did say that he had died before. Or at least I thought he had. But as it turned out, Chavez y Chavez's story hadn't ended there. No. Far from it my friend. **

Chavez rode his horse through the deserts of New Mexico with a scowl on his face.

**You see, that Mexican Indian hadn't really died back there. I had just thought he did. But it looked like his ancestors had a lot more in store for him. A lot more, that's for sure. **

He had been riding through nothing but waste land for days and was quite nearly out of water, and was defiantly out of food.

Suddenly, Chavez heard the sound of trickling water up ahead. He encouraged his horse to pick up the pace, and found a small stream running through the desert.

He quickly got off his horse and went to drink when he suddenly heard a rattling sound. He looked to his left and saw a diamond back rattle snake getting ready to strike. The snake rattled louder as Chavez cautiously reached for a knife.

"Shut up," he spat, and then flung the knife, decapitating the rattle snake.

Chavez sighed with irritation as he pulled his knife from the dirt and wiped the blade with his sleeve.

He then saw something out of the corner of his eye. Chavez looked up and saw a figure walking through the heat waves out in the distance. The figure got closer, but the image was still blurry. To Chavez, it appeared to be a person only more shadow like and featureless. Something about it made him want to keep staring, but his instincts told him that it was time to go.

He turned to mount his horse and felt something crunch under his feet. Chavez was shocked to find snow under his feet. He looked around to find his horse, but didn't find it. He, instead saw many horses. With people. All lying in what appeared to be, endless snow. Snow that was splattered with red. Chavez felt the bile rising in his throat as his limbs went stiff. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He yelled with fear and anguish as he forced himself around to slice through whoever was behind him, but his blade only hit air.

Chavez gasped with exhaustion as he found himself once again surrounded by desert. He looked the other direction and again saw nothing but dry desert. He called for his horse, and saw it trot out from behind a large rock that jutted out from the dirt next to the stream. Chavez grunted with effort as he forced himself to get up off the rocky ground. He approached his horse and stroked its face.

"You can't go wondering off, caballo." The horse whinnied in reply.

Chavez patted the horse's neck and then mounted. He looked around, trying to decide which way to go. He didn't where he wanted to go, so for a while, he just sat frustrated and tired.

Chavez had not an earthly idea who the form was in his vision. All he knew was that he had just been forced, for a moment, to relive that day on the reservation. The day his family had been taken from him.

Eventually, Chavez just started riding. We rode on towards the mountains and arrived at the base just before sunset.

He made a fire that evening, and sat staring into the flames with his stomach empty. Chavez couldn't get the vision out of his mind.

"What are the spirits trying to tell me," he thought.

Suddenly, from the top of a tall cactus, he heard an owl. Chavez looked up and saw its large, glowing, yellow eyes. The owl didn't blink at him, or even twitch its head sideways. It just stared straight at him.

Chavez was not frightened when the owl suddenly few towards him, and landed on the ground just five feet away.

"Is there something you wish to tell me, my friend," he asked. That's when the owl took off again and landed several yards away, next to a peyote plant.

Chavez stared at the owl for another moment and said "I see."

The owl finally blinked at him, and flew away into the night.

Chavez quickly prepared the peyote and painted his face. He let out a ragged breath, and let himself drift off into the spirit world.

When he opened his eyes, his surroundings were shrouded in fog. He looked around and saw no one. The rocks that had surrounded his campsite jutted out through the fog like teeth. There was no noise. There were no crickets, and Chavez's horse was gone. The fire was also silent. Sparks from a cracking log flurried up into the air, but no crackling could be heard. The moon and stars were gone as well. The only light was that of the fire.

Chavez edged closer to the base of the fire, crossed his legs, and set his hands in his lap as he once again stared into the fire, which had suddenly started to die.

Not really knowing what to do, Chavez let the fire slowly flicker out. When the fire was gone he felt a coldness start to spend throughout his body. He pulled his knees to his chest and hugged his legs at it overwhelmed him.

Chavez then felt the cold beginning to recede, and the fire returned. He was relieved and then horrified to see that the fire was dying again.

This time he cupped his hands around the little flame and blew it back to life. Chavez was very pleasantly warm now, and he let himself enjoy the pleasure of the fire. He then, heard the faint sound of children's laughter. He also heard the laugh of a woman, that reminded him much of his mother's.

But suddenly it was day again. The sun was high overhead. Chavez stood up and looked around to find that he was on a beach.

The white sand shifted as he moved his feet and the waves crashed down on the shore, but like the fire, all was silent. There were no sea birds or hermit crabs either. Only sand one way and water the other.

Wanting to see what would happen, Chavez took a step back from the water, and faster than he could blink, it all soaked into the ground, leaving nothing but dry, cracked dirt.

He now had to shield his face from the burning sun. He tasted sand and his eyes were burning red.

Chavez once again returned to normal when the water returned.

This time, he took a step towards the water. The cool liquid swirled around his feet. Chavez breathed in the crisp ocean air. He heard children laughing again. And with it came a woman's laughter like before.

Only this time, it was the laugh of a stranger. Chavez sensed a presence from behind and turned around. He saw the same figure from his earlier vision, walking towards him as the laughter became louder. He realized that it was the figure of a woman, and tried to approach it.

Suddenly, he was able to hear the waves as they crashed down on him and swallowed him whole. Chavez could no longer hear laughter. Only the sound of rushing water.

Everything suddenly went black.


	2. Young Guns Fanfic Ch2 No Idea

Chavez was slowly beginning to regain consciousness. He could hear waves again. Only this time, he could also hear the sound of calling sea birds, and his horse whinnying next to his face.

He opened his eyes to find that he was lying on his stomach, on a beach. This beach was different from the beach in his vision. The sand ended about 50 yards from where he lay. That's where grass and flowers took over the warmth of the summer sun. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his horse eyeing down a tiny hermit crab that was scuffling across the sand.

Suddenly, his horse went wild, and he heard a click next to his head. He looked up and saw four men with cocked guns.

**One thing I can tell you about Chavez, is that the one thing he hated more than waking up face down in a pile of sand, was waking up with a gun pointed at his face. And boy, did it piss him off. **

"State yur' business here ya' dirty Mexican," one of the men barked.

**And what pissed him off more, was that he had no idea where the hell he was. **

Chavez looked up at the man and said in a low tone "Why don't you tell me?"

Another man demanded "What's yur' name, boy?"

He responded "Wouldn't you like to know. Uhh!"

One of the men had kicked him in the side. "We won't ask you again."

Chavez scrambled for one of his knives or his gun, but found that he had no weapons on him. Out of desperation, he lunged at one of the men.

The others laughed as the stranger pulled out a small dagger and stabbed him in the thigh. Chavez yelled in surprise when the blade struck him. The man then kicked him in the stomach and then the head. The force of the blows sent him toppling over.

The rest of the men joined in, kicking and punching him with all their might.

Chavez was on the verge of blacking out again, when the men suddenly stopped hitting him and he heard a high pitched voice that had apparently caught the men's attention. The voice said something that he couldn't quite catch, and the voices of one of the men responded. He felt another kick to his head, and he blacked out.

Chavez's head spun as he the image of a ceiling formed in his vision. He felt sharp bursts of pain in his thigh where the man had stabbed him.

He managed to look towards that direction, and saw the blurry form of the woman in his visions, who appeared to be sewing up the wound. Chavez tried to speak, but couldn't quite get the words out. The woman then held a cup to his lips and forced him to drink a strange, bitter tasting liquid.

Afterwards, everything went black again.

Chavez woke up again to see the same ceiling. With the faces of five children. Three girls and two boys.

The oldest looking child, a girl, who appeared to be 8 or 9, was dressed like a doll. She had pale skin and brown hair.

She was holding the smallest of the children, another girl who appeared to be 2, was dressed much like her sister and had the same pale skin. Only her hair was blond.

The two boys appeared to be 6 and 4. They both looked very much alike. The same pale skin as the two girls, and dirty blond hair.

The last child was a girl who seemed to be the same age as the brown headed girl. She looked nothing like the other children. She had darker skin and dark brown hair with hazel eyes. All the other children had brown eyes.

And all five children were just staring at him. Like he was something they'd never seen before.

Chavez was getting tired of the silence. "Can I help you?"

The children suddenly started screaming and spread throughout the room. Their screams made Chavez's head hurt and his ears ring. He sat up and held his ears with a painful look on his face.

The children finally stopped screaming and the older boy said "He's alive! He's really alive!"

The darker girl took a step forward.

The other older girl grabbed her hand and said "No! Mother Jay said not to talk to him!" That's when Chavez noticed something else about the darker girl.

She was dressed like a more common child, while the others were dressed like little dolls. This girl also had messy hair, while the others had neat, combed hair.

Suddenly, the woman who had stitched his wound stepped into the room. She had the same darker skin and hair as the other little girl, and was dressed in a servants clothing.

Chavez took another look around the room and saw the fancy furnishings. He then realized that he was in a wealthier household. And the woman and the girl must have been staff in the house, while the other children must have lived there.

"All right now that's enough," the woman said.

She looked at the brown headed girl holding the toddler. "Mary, take your sister downstairs and go tend to your chickens and rabbits. Your father has been waiting for you for twenty minutes you know. And William, you and your brother need to pick up your toys on the front steps."

She then looked at the other girl. "Carrie I've asked you three times already to finish your chores, now go on."

The children did as they were told, each receiving and giving a kiss on the cheek before filing out of the room.

After they were gone, the woman looked at Chavez and said "I'm sorry. Those children are more curious than a teenage cat."

She walked towards the bed and helped him get up. While doing so she tried to get his name from him.

"Chavez y Chavez, miss?"

"Jean McCormick," she said.

"It's a pleasure Ms. McCormick," he said with a grunt as he set his feet on the floor and tried to stand.

"Careful now, you have a few broken ribs along with that stab wound on your leg."

"Ah yes. Thank you for stitching that up for me," he said between several painful steps.

"It was no trouble at all, Mr. Chavez." she said as she let him sling his arm over her shoulder. "No trouble at all."

Ms. McCormick helped him out of the room and into a hallway with large portraits.

She stopped and asked "Do you mind taking the elevator?"

Chavez answered "No. So where are you taking me?"

"To see the master of the house. Mr. W.L. Moody."


	3. Ch3 The Figure in the Library

When they arrived downstairs, an older man in a suit was waiting for them. He had a scowl on his face and looked like an angry bulldog.

He reminded Chavez of the judge who has condemned him to hang, after he had been hunted down like a dog just after the Lincoln County War. He decided then that he didn't like this man.

One thing I can tell you about Chavez, is that he could tell a good man from a bad one, just by the way he talked. But this man, hell, he didn't to utter a word for Chavez to figure out that he was dealing with one nasty son of a bitch.

Chavez looked at the man flatly as he leaned on Ms. McCormick's small frame.

"I'm gonna guess that you're Mr. Moody?"

The old man's scowl deepened as he barked "No! Hurry up and get him to Mr. Moody, girl! The man's waiting!"

The old man watched as Ms. McCormick did her best to get Chavez down the hall as quickly as possible. Chavez tried not to grunt as they moved along. His ribs were hurting now and he was deeply irritated at the way the old man had spoken to him and the woman who was helping him down the hall.

Chavez's angry thoughts were interrupted by the creaking of a large wooden door, which, now that he was looking, apparently lead into a small but well-furnished and decorated library.

The walls were covered in patterned red silk and the shelves and chairs were made of some dark wood. Also, in the corner of the room, sat a figure in a chair with its back turned and its head bending close to the surface of a carved mahogany desk. Above the figure hung the portrait of older man, with neatly combed hair and a hard look on his face.

The figure turned around to face them as they entered the room. He turned out to look much like the man in the painting. Only much younger and with a less shrinking look in his eyes.

The man flatly gave a forced smile and greeted them.

"Ah. I see you've meet Jean. And I'm sure you've been acquainted with Mr. Anthony," he said as Ms. McCormick helped Chavez into a chair.

"Anthony?"

"The man we meet out in the hallway," she whispered.

"I'm afraid you'll have to forgive my butler. He's a bit bitter sometimes towards strangers and well... people in general."

Chavez looked at the man with a cocked eyebrow.

"And you would be..."

The man's fake smile broadened. "Why, I'm W.L. Moody of course. And I welcome you to my home my dear sir."

"It's Chavez, and in speaking of that, why am I here?"

With that, Mr. Moody stood up and started pacing around the room as he spoke.

"Ms. McCormick, who you've already meet, she's my children's nanny you see. She found you on the beach being beaten by a group of men. Those men just so happen to be... acquaintances of mine. Very dangerous they are. But useful. You could be useful yourself."

Chavez let out a soft chuckle as the man continued to speak.

"You see I am a powerful man Mr. Chavez. And powerful men do have friends..."

He sat back down and looked him in the eye.

"... but they have enemies as well."

Chavez straightened himself up in his seat.

"A few months ago, a neighboring cattleman appeared at my doorstep. This man's name is Howard Griffin. And he raises 15% of the cattle butchered here in the state of Texas every year."

Texas. Chavez couldn't believe it. Somehow he had ended up on the Gulf of Mexico in Texas. The first thing that came to Chavez's mind was the spirit world. He must have accidentally traveled from New Mexico to Texas through the spirit world.

"Making him quite the adversary," Mr. Moody continued.

"When he arrived on my porch he accused me of stealing 87 new born calves from his ranch. At the time he had two ranch hands with him. Seeing that I raise champion horses, not cows, I'm sure you could have easily understood why I found it so funny that he would accuse me of stealing cows. But, the point is, Mr. Griffin didn't find the matter so tickling. Before I could even catch my breath from laughing so hard one of his ranch hands dismounted and shot my dog. He then proceeded to shoot at me. I of course ran for cover and heard Griffin threaten to come back and really hurt someone if I didn't return his cattle. But of course I have no cattle to return. The man simply won't listen to reason. Just last month his men shot and killed one of my own farm hands. The rest simply left. They were terrified that if they did stay that they would suffer the same fate."

"And..."

"And I was impressed by you Mr. Chavez. Impressed that you were not killed by the first kick. Like I said those men are dangerous. Any normal Mexican wouldn't..."

"Mexican-Indian," Chavez interrupted.

Mr. Moody sighed.

"Any normal... Mexican-Indian... wouldn't have lasted as long as you did. Probably not at all. Nearly all of my men are gone now and I need someone of your durability to protect my horses and my family."

Chavez lightly chuckled at the word 'durability.'

"I am willing to supply you with room, board, weapons, a horse, and a monthly salary of $42, in exchange for your services."

Chavez looked at him sarcastically and asked "And these services would include...?"

"You would join my last few farm hands and assist them in herding the horses into the pastures to graze every morning. You would then accompany Ms. McCormick and my children on any activities and excursions as a body guard. Any sign of trouble from Griffin and his men and you will be expected to hold your ground. If needed you will of course receive medical attention."

Chavez could hardly hold in his laugh. Partly because he saw Ms. McCormick roll her eyes as Moody spoke, and partly because this man had no idea who he really was and what he had done. Much less the fact that he had ridden with Billy the Kid.

He was about to turn down the man's offer, when he felt an all too familiar pang in his gut.

Chavez realized that he probably hadn't eaten in the past 72 hours. He also remembered that he had no money and no longer had any weapons. Not to mention that the men who attacked him had probably taken his horse.

While Chavez sat, thinking about what to do, Mr. Moody sat back in his chair and waited patiently.

He ended up accepting his offer, which made the man smile widely. This time for real.

Mr. Moody ordered Ms. McCormick to help Chavez back up to his room and to make sure that he was feed well and given a hot bath. As Chavez and Ms. McCormick slowly exited the library, Mr. Moody called in Anthony and told him to prepare a room for Chavez on the ground floor of the house. With his back turned, Chavez heard the butler leave the library and could feel his angry gaze burning on his neck as the old man watched them slowly move down the hall.

Chavez couldn't help but crack a crooked smile.


	4. Young Guns Fanfic Ch4 Pt1 Just Jean

Later that evening, Ms. McCormick left Chavez to a hot bath shortly after giving him dinner. He clenched his teeth and hissed as he felt the warm water stinging on his wounds. After easing himself into the water, he leaned his sore back against the back of the tub with a sigh.

He was indeed in pain, but enjoyed the feeling of a full stomach.

Chavez couldn't get the sour old man from earlier out of his mind. There was something about Anthony that made his skin crawl. One thing he did know was that he hated the way he had spoken to Ms. McCormick, and the way he had glared at them as they passed by.

Suddenly, Chavez's head started to hurt. He then decided that he was probably dwelling on something that really meant nothing and tried to relax his mind a bit.

His relaxation was interrupted by the opening of the bathroom door. He was surprised to see Ms. McCormick walking into the bathroom with a small pile of folded clothes, while humming plainly.

"Um...can I help you?"

"Oh! Sorry I didn't mean to startle you. I had just forgotten to put out a set of clothes for you," she said in a rather casual tone.

She set the clothes down on the edge of the counter top.

"Uh...thank you?"

Chavez couldn't help but ask himself why the nanny would merrily stroll into a bathroom with a naked man inside. Was she not a respectable woman?

Jean McCormick suddenly went quiet. She fondled with the neatly folded clothes with a thoughtful expression on her face. Like she was picking out words for the question to follow.

"What was it like riding with Billy the Kid?"

Chavez's eyes went wide. He hadn't thought that anyone he'd meet in this house so far really knew who he was. Apparently she did. He sat in his bath, silent.

"I'm sorry was that rude of me in some way," Ms. McCormick asked looking embarrassed.

"N-no. But how did you...I thought..."

"If you don't want people to know who you are, you should probably change your name. Luckily, Mr. Moody doesn't know the first thing about the wanted criminals in New Mexico. He only cares about the ones here in Texas. In speaking of that, why are you in Texas?"

Chavez just continued to stare at her.

She quietly laughed and said "Don't worry. I'm not gonna tell a soul."

He let out a relieved sigh and rested his back again the wall of the tub. Ms. McCormick quietly giggled.

"Well anyhow, you still haven't answered my question. What ARE you doing here in Texas?"

"Well... I uh... don't know. I guess I never really had much of a plan."

He thought to himself. Much less a plan to end up in Texas at all. Why of all places would the spirits send them here?

"Oh I see. You're just drifting then."

"Sure, if that's what you wonna call it."

She laughed again.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of screaming children, coming from down the hall. Ms. McCormick stepped towards the doorway.

"Welp, I'd best go put them down for bed before they disturb their daddy. Goodnight Chavez."

Chavez couldn't help but laugh "Goodnight Ms. McCormick."

As she was walking out the door, she turned and said "And no more of that Ms. McCormick business. It's Jean. That's what all my friends call me. Just Jean."

She smiled, and left to tend to the children.

Chavez gave a sideways smile as she left. He thought to himself. All right then, Just Jean.


	5. Ch4 Pt2 Pull the Trigger

Chavez spent the next week resting. Each day went the same. He'd be woken in the morning by the crowing of the roasters from the pin outside.

Mr. Moody used chickens and rabbits to teach his children business and responsibility.

He would sit himself up, and right as he would set his feet on the floor, Jean McCormick would peak her head in through the door. He would then give her permission to enter and she would come in with his breakfast and a fresh set of clothes. Chavez would chat with Jean before she left.

During the week, he had learned from her that he was on Galveston Island in Texas. He had also inquired about her own self during the week. She told him that she had lived and worked at the mansion for as long as she could remember. The dark headed little girl who had been with Mr. Moody's children was actually her niece. Jean and her niece slept on the ground floor which was used as quarters for all the staff.

One morning, she shook him awake.

"Chavez? Get up, it's time to go to work."

She had woken Chavez from a nightmare. He had gotten little sleep that night. He blinked his eyes open and saw the blurry face of his new friend.

"Up, up, up," she urged.

He failed to do so, and she yanked his pillow out from under his head and hit him in the stomach with it. She laughed at his loud grunt.

"Ok, ok."

Jean watched he pull himself out of bed.

"Mr. Moody says it's time for you to get to work. You'll be moving into the servants quarters this evening."

Chavez smirked as he pulled on his trousers.

"Pff! Guess the welcome party is over huh?"

She laughed.

"Ok. Well we don't have a swim suit for you so I just brought you some old clothes that you can get in the water with if you wish to do so. I already have breakfast, lunch, and the tent packed, so I'll just go down stairs and get the horses ready, and then we'll be ready."

With that she left.

Chavez watched the door shut behind her. He realized that except for the day that she had found him, he had never been to the sea. He wondered what it would feel like to swim in salt water.

His thoughts were interrupted by the utterly annoying sound of Anthony's voice booming from down the hall. He thought nothing of it at first, but then he heard a thud and scream that frighteningly sounded like Jean.

With his clothes finally on, he grabbed a pistle that Mr. Moody had given him and he ran out into the hall and to the stair case.

Chavez's stomach boiled. The old butler was standing over Jean who was lying in an awkward position on the stairs. Neither of them noticed his presence.

"I'll show you to have an attitude with me you little wretch!"

He raised his hand to strike her and Chavez put the tip of the pistle to the back of the old man's head.

He said flatly "You touch her amigo, and I WILL shot you."

Anthony raised his hands and slowly turned his face around as Jean scrambled to her feet. The old butler had a look of furry on his face. Chavez stared him straight in the face, but addressed Jean.

"Jean go get the horses ready, I'll be there in a minute."

She did as she was told and left them alone.

He pulled the gun from Anthony's head.

"Did anyone ever teach you to mind your own business, Mexican," the old man hissed as he lowered his hands.

"Mexican-Indian you son of a bitch, and I don't want to catch you laying a finger on her ever again."

He opened the barrel of the gun to count how many bullets were in it.

"Who do you think you are, Mexican-INDIAN?"

Chavez looked back up at him and closed the barrel.

"I think I'm her bodyguard."

He then walked past him and down the stairs. Anthony watched him go, with a look of hatred.

**Ha ha. Yeah ole' Chavez could be one hell of a wise crack when he needed to be. And one thing he never failed to do, was to piss off anyone who had done the same to him. And he really did consider pulling that trigger. Trust me, I know. He did. **

Chavez walked outside to find Jean waiting for him. Her cheek was red from where Anthony had hit her.

"Now look, I..."

"Do you just let him hit you like that? All the time?"

She opened her mouth but then stopped herself. She looked at the ground.

"You're new here Chavez. But soon enough you'll find out that...well, you have superiors. And if you don't pay mind to them then they'll just have to pay mind to you. But not in a good way."

Chavez just blinked at her as she continued to eye the ground.

"Pay mind indeed," she whispered.

He let out a sigh and asked "What did you say to him?"

Jean looked back up at him.

"What did I say to him?"

"Yes," he nodded.

She hesitated.

"I..."

She was interrupted by a shrill voice coming from the back door where they had exited the house. They both turned their heads to see the oldest of the children, Mary, with her sister in her arms, Carrie to her left and the two boys to her right, standing by the door.

"We're ready to go now, Momma Jay."

Chavez looked back at her with a smile.

"Momma Jay?"

"That's their nickname for me. Come on then children and come say hi to Chavez."

The children came cautiously like they had never met a stranger in their lives.

"Hello," said Mary with a stern look on her face.

Carrie said a quick hi and ducked behind her friend. The little one just cooed in her sister's arms. Completely oblivious the new comer's presence. This made Chavez smile.

The older of the two boys, William, wrinkled up his nose and said "He doesn't look all that tough to me. He just looks like a stupid ole' Mexican."

Chavez chuckled and the boy wrinkled his nose even more.

"Well, I'm sure he's much tougher than you, young man. Now mind your manners and apologize," Jean scolded.

William turned red and his eyes shifted to the side.

"Sorry," he said stubbornly as he shoved his fists into his pockets.

Jean nodded in approval and said "All right then. Let's get going."

Chavez helped load the children into a small wagon, pulled by a pony. Jean rode her own horse with her reins in one hand and the rope with which she lead the pony in the other. Chavez also rode a horse of his own. A large black filly, with a white star on her forehead.

When they got the beach the children screamed in delight. They jumped and chattered around as Jean clumsily put up a tent for them to change in. Once they were all in their swimming clothes, the children were allowed to play in the shallows, as long as little Libby stayed in Mary's arms at all times. Chavez and Jean slowly paced the beach as the children played nearby.


	6. Young Guns Fanfic Ch5 Pt1 Greaser

"My mother was a Negro-Indian, and my father was a wealthy Irishman," Jean said in a plain tone. "They met when my father was visiting a friend who, well, "owned" my mother. His friend owned a saloon and she was house entertainment, and I guess when my father saw her..."

Chavez listened intently.

"...I don't know, I guess it was love at first sight." She laughed and continued. "Well, I guess, if one believes in that sort of thing."

"And you don't," Chavez inquired.

Jean half smiled and said "I believe in destiny, but not love at first sight. Relationships take time." He smiled.

"So what happened with your parents?" Her smile disappeared.

"Well, when my sister and I were two, when our father passed away, leaving us nothing but dept. My mother had go from place to place working as a maid or a nanny in order to feed us. Luckily she never got pulled back into slave labor."

She stopped dead in her tracks and stared at the wet sand beneath her feet.

"Something wrong," Chavez asked, not knowing what she was doing.

Jean slowly bent down, and then snapped her hand into the sand. She held a small hermit crab in her hand. She looked at Chavez and smiled.

"I stepped on it."

Chavez then felt something scuttle beneath his own foot. He reached down into the sand. He picked up a larger hermit crab, and held it out for Jean to see.

She laughed "Well damn. I guess you beat me."

Chavez couldn't help but be surprised by the woman's language. He thought to himself, that one would think a nanny with neatly pulled back hair and kind, glittering eyes wouldn't dare utter such words. Despite his surprise he found it rather amusing. In fact, he started laughing.

Jean scoffed and said "What are you laughing about, mister?"

Chavez pulled himself together with a smile and lied "Nothing."

Jean then committed another surprising act. She rolled her eyes with a smirk, and then gave Chavez a light punch in the shoulder. She then proceeded to run away towards the children with a childish laugh.

Chavez stood there for a second and just watched her run, with a thoughtful half-smile on his face.

When the sun began to set, Jean rounded up the children from the water. Once the children were dried and clothed, they all packed up and rode back up to the house. When they arrived home Mrs. Moody was waiting on the front porch for them. She had her arms tightly crossed over her chest with a look of motherly anger and worry on her white powdered face. She stepped toward the group as they approached.

"What on Earth took so long Jean?! You're an hour late, and you had me worried sick."

"Oh I'm terribly sorry, Miss. We were just having fun and lost track of the sun," Jean smiled as she chirped.

Mrs. Moody continued to scold. "Well, I guess that it's obvious that everyone is fine so I guess it doesn't matter. Bring the children over here for my good night kisses and get them straight to bed."

The Moody children jumped to the ground and calmly approached their mother. In a single file line, each child received a peck on the forehead, while Carrie hung back with Jean and Chavez. After they had received their kisses, the children followed their nanny into the house as Mrs. Moody and Chavez watched. When they were out of sight the woman turned her head towards the Mexican-Indian and gave him a blank. Chavez tipped his hat towards her.

"Ma'am."

Chavez heard her mutter something under her breath as she turned away with a frown. She then drifted back into the house without ever addressing him. The woman thought that she had not been heard, but Chavez easily picked up on her quiet insult.

Greaser.

Chavez woke up to light pouring through the window into his eyes. He slowly sat up. His head was fuzzy and rather heavy feeling. As he turned and put his feet on the floor, he heard the children laughing outside. With blurry eyes he looked down at the yard. It was a hot morning and the heat waves made it harder for him to see. He watched the wavy figures of the children chasing and hiding with high pitched laughter.

Chavez shut his sleepy eyes and smiled at the happy sounds of the children. Suddenly, the laughter turned to screams. His eyes would have shot open if it weren't for the fact that his eye lids just wouldn't open. He was just so tired. He then heard the screams of a woman. The screams of the children intensified as something started to snarl.

This vicious sound made the hairs on the back of Chavez's neck stand straight up, but he still couldn't open his eyes. He felt his heart fill with fear and dread as he realized that he couldn't even move anymore. The screaming and snarling outside continued as his body slumped to the floor. He tried desperately to get back up to the window, but his arms and legs were so heavy it hurt. In fact, his entire body was throbbing with this heavy pain. He tried to call out for help, but got no answer.

Chavez finally recognized the screams of the woman as those of Jean McCormick. His eyes suddenly shot open and all power to move had returned to his body. He hurried to the window to look out, but saw no one. The glass was covered in blood.

Chavez woke up from his nightmare with a scream. He launched himself from his bed and fell to the floor with a thud.

He groaned as he felt a stabbing pain in his head. A knock at the door startled him, and he once again jumped in surprise. Only this time he jumped backwards, hitting his already throbbing head on the old wooden night stand in his new room in the servants' quarters.

When he finally came fully to his senses, he remembered that his room was in the basement, and that it didn't even have a window. The knock at the door came again and he heard the sweet old voice of the maid, Ms. Hulbert.

"Chavez? Was that you screaming, dear?"

Chavez grunted as he lifted himself off the floor.

"Yes ma'am, I'm fine."

"Well good. Mr. Moody is out for the day, and the children and Jean will be stuck inside due to the heat. He wants you out helping James today. You had better get up and get going."

"Yes ma'am," he said as he clumsily tried to pull on his trousers and fell to the floor again.

When Chavez had finally gotten himself dressed, Ms. Hulbert gave him some coffee and few biscuits for breakfast. She then led him out into the morning heat. It was only eight o'clock, yet the sun was already beating down on the sandy ground of the island, and the heat waves were already distorting the vision of all who dared to venture outside.

The old maid lead Chavez to the barn, where a dusty clothed ranch hand was filling a trough full of water, by carrying buckets from the well and dumping them over in a hurry.

Despite the intense heat, Ms. Hulbert chirped at the ranch hand "Getting ready to take a bath, dear?"

The dusty man looked up at her and then at Chavez. He then smiled.

"No ma'am. I sure do wish though. Who's this feller?"

Ms. Hulbert introduced the two men.

"Chavez, this here is James Griffin. James, this is Jose Chavez y Chavez."

Chavez winced at the casual mention of his full name.

"He's the young man Mr. Moody hired to keep an eye on Jean and the children," she continued.

James smiled and said "I guess the babysitter needed a babysitter herself, huh?"

Chavez lifted an eyebrow at the man. He wasn't wither it was an insult directed towards him or Jean. James just laughed.

"I'm just messing with you, Chavez. Laugh a bit, it's good for the soul," he said as he gave a friendly slap to the outlaw's arm.

Chavez couldn't help but give a slight, crooked smile. He finally took a good look at him, and saw that he had a friendly smile, along with the familiar smell of dirt and sweat, and dirty stained light-brown hair. He decided that he liked James.

Ms. Hulbert then said goodbye to the two and left them to work. They both watched her go and then looked at each other. James slapped Chavez on the back.

"Alright then my friend. Let's get to work."


	7. Young Guns Ch5 Pt2 A Really Bad Idea

James lead Chavez over to a worn down old shed, with faded red paint. Chavez's stomach sank as James stopped and casually pointed towards a large bee hive, rested just above the door of the shed.

"You're going to make me help you get rid of that, aren't you," he said looking at James.

The dusty man chuckled and once again slapped him on the back.

"Yep."

"Shit."

"So what we're gonna do first," James explained "… is make sure that the water trough over there is all the way full."

Chavez looked towards the trough that he had seen him filling with water before.

"Then what we're gonna do, is fill up that barrel there and place it right underneath the hive. We both need to make sure that are faces and hands are covered. The only thing that shouldn't be covered, are your eyes, because of course you need to see. Once we've taken care of that you're gonna fill a few buckets full of water. Then I'll take that stick there and knock the hive down into the barrel so that the bees will drown, and if needed you're gonna splash any remaining bees with the water in the buckets."

Chavez raised an eyebrow and frankly said "That sounds kind of stupid."

James laughed and asks "You have a better idea, friend?"

Chavez thought for a minute and couldn't come up with anything, so he shrugged and accepted defeat.

James smiled at victory and said "Well then let's get to it."

Chavez did exactly as he said and covered his hands and as much as his face as he could. He then filled two buckets full of water as James placed the barrel underneath the hive. He felt his stomach doing flips as he got ready to grip the handles of the buckets, and James picked up his stick and got ready as well.

Chavez thought to himself "This can, and probably will, go badly."

James lifted the stick towards the hive and asked "Ready?"

Chavez braced himself.

"Yeah."

At that, James quickly went at the hive with the stick and detached it from the shed, but both of their stomachs sank as the thing bounced off the rim of the barrel and landed in the dry dirt.

"CHAVEEEEEEZ!"

Bees shot strait out of the hive and started swarming around the ranch hand. Chavez bolted to his friend's rescue, but instead of hitting the source of the hive he splashed James trying to stop the bees' attack. Unfortunately, it didn't work, and the dirty ranch hand ran for his life and threw himself into the water trough.

"So that's what the trough was for," Chavez thought to himself.

He was then stunned to feel a sharp sting in his shoulder as an angry bee stung him. Before he could swat the thing away, he felt another sting on his other shoulder. Then a few more on his back and one on his thigh. Chavez felt himself panic as he realized that he was being swarmed himself.

He thought to himself "How are these things stinging me through my clothes?!"

Chavez looked around for a source of water. James was already in the trough and there was no room for another. Then his eyes fell on the well.

"Oh shit," he thought as he realized that the well was his only escape.

After just a second of hesitation, he ran full speed towards the well and launched himself over the side and into the water. He instantly felt relief from the stinging as the bees that were on him drowned and the others lost interest and flew away. When Chavez couldn't hold his breath anymore and finally broke the surface gasping for air, he heard James calling him.

"I'm down here!"

After a moment, he saw James' head looking down at him.

"What the hell are you doing, Chavez?!"

"Well how else do you thing I was supposed to get away when you were already in the trough?"

James shrugged and said "Man. That did not go well, my friend."

Chavez groaned "You think?"

It took twenty minutes and the help of the grounds keeper to get Chavez out of the well. When he was finally out and he had taken his shirt off to get rid of the dead bees, James and the grounds keeper were shocked to see how many stingers he had stuck in him. They ended up taking him to Jean.

Chavez sat and pouted as Jean laughed at his story of what happened.

"Ha ha. So this was James' plan?"

"Yes."

"And you listened to him?"

"Yes."

Jean howled with laughter as Chavez rolled his eyes.

"One thing you should know about James is that he ain't one for ideas. And when he does have one, it's probably not a good one."

Chavez managed a weak smile and said "I noticed."

He then clenched his teeth as he felt a sudden sting on his back. Jean was applying some sort of cream that the red welts on him sting.

He hissed in pain and she said "Sorry. It takes a minute to kick in but it'll make you feel better."

Jean was almost finished treating him when she got to the stings on his face. Chavez winced as she applied the ointment, making his face sting and itch. He was distracted when he noticed her eyes. They were blue, with yellow around the center. She noticed that he was staring at her.

"What are you staring at," she questioned.

Chavez didn't answer. He was so transfixed on her eyes that he couldn't tear is own away.

Jean let out a half-hearted chuckle.

"It's the eyes, isn't it?"

She continued to laugh as she turned and got a rag. She talked as she wiped some dirt off his face.

"People around here and in the town have always said that my eyes make me look odd. Some of the old ladies from the Catholic Church up the road even think the devil tried to put hell fire into my eyes because I have Indian blood in me, and that that is why I have yellow in my eyes."

They both laughed at the concept.

Jean continued "While I am a Christian I do believe in genetics. And that is all that there is to the way my eyes look. It's just a plain old genetic mutation. Nothing more, and nothing less."

"So most people don't like it then," Chavez asked.

Jean laughed and continued to clean his face.

"Nope. Like I said, I've got the devil in my eyes," she laughed once again at the accusation.

Chavez half-heartedly chuckled.

Jean gave a questioning look and asked "What?"

"Nothing, just people and their resentment towards other people."

"I know, but you get used to it. Not that it's something you should have to get used to," she said with a half-smile.

Jean then continued to treat him, and they were both silent. Just as she turned to leave the room, Chavez grabbed her hand. She looked at him and saw a weak smile on his face.

"Thank you," he said softly.

While she wasn't exactly sure what he meant, Jean couldn't help but smile as her face turned a wild shade of red.

Chavez let go of her hand and to his surprise, she quickly kissed him on the forehead and left the room.

After she had left, Chavez let himself fall backwards onto his bed, and for the first time in years he fell asleep smiling.

...

Wow. That last part, was an epic fail. LOL! Oh, well. YOLO


	8. Ch6 Pt1 El Otono

I really wanted to keep this in one part but it's taking forever due to school. So, here ya go, and sorry for the wait.

...

Chavez woke up in the middle of the night to find that he was lying on the floor of his bedroom. It was like the bed had just vanished from right underneath him. That's when he realized that he was just in another dream.

He got up on his feet and looked around the room. There was no night stand or trunk. Even the old wicker chair that had sat in the corner was gone. He was startled to find that the room now had a window. The same window from his previous dream.

Chavez began to back away from the window and he bumped into someone. He turned back around and was relieved to see the face of James Griffin.

Breathing with relief he said "You shouldn't sneak up on me, amigo."

He looked around again.

"And what happened to the bed and the nightstand and the…?"

Chavez laid his eyes back onto the face of his new friend and realized that it hadn't moved. That casual, friendly smile was frozen in place, and his round, cheerful eyes did not blink or shift. In fact, his whole body was still. Even his clothes and hair did not sway in the warm breeze that was now circling throughout the room.

Chavez watched in complete shock as his friend's form turned to sand and sank to the floor in a heaping pile. The brick and wooden walls of his room then turned to sand and sank to the ground, which was now also sand.

Chavez looked around and realized that he was at the beach, where he had first awoken and had been beaten by strangers. He heard their hostile voices, and the fading whiney of his horse. He also heard his own shouts of pain and then the pleading voice of Jean McCormick.

_"__What are you doing?! Leave that man alone!"_

He heard that voice of one of the men.

_"__He's a damn Mexican, Ms. McCormick. You get along and mind yur' own business."_

The shifty, white sand beneath his feet turned to hard, brown dirt with rocks. Chavez then saw that he was back by the corral at the mansion. Like before, he heard voices but saw no one. He heard the same gruff voice from the beach.

_"__You'd better quit lying out a' yur' ass, Moody! I can and will raise hell!"_

Chavez then heard his employer's calm voice in a hush, but couldn't quite make out exactly what he was saying. He was startled, when the form of James Griffin appeared in front of him again. Like before, he was completely still.

"James," Chavez managed to say.

He was once again chocked to see that face of his friend begin to age right before his eyes. In doing so, that man's face resembled closely, one of the men that had found and beaten Chavez on the beach.

Chavez then woke up with a start. Like the morning before, he accidently threw himself from his bed and hit his head on the down to the floor. This time the force of the blow made his brain rattle, and his vision blurred terribly.

Chavez pushed himself up off the floor and grunted "Maldita sea!"

He rubbed his aching head and got up on his feet. His head swirled as he dressed himself and walked out of his room.

He got outside and noticed that it wasn't as hot as it had been for the past few weeks, and the air was crisp and cleaner.

"El otono," he muttered to himself.

Chavez was slightly startled when he suddenly heard James' voice.

"What was that," the once again, already dirty man asked.

"Autumn. It's coming closer, my friend," he answered.

"How can you tell?"

"How can you not? Just taste the air. You can sense it."

James gave the Mexican- Indian a funny look.

"Taste the air?"

"Never mind, amigo." Chavez waved his hand, dismissing the subject.

James smiled and said "Anyway, Mr. Moody and the Mrs. are taking the kids into town today along with Ms. McCormick, so I suggest you put on some better clothes and comb yur' hair. The locals don't take kindly to people walkin' around looking like vagrants and what not."

Chavez rolled his eyes and muttered "Sounds familiar."

James chuckled at him and they heard someone bust through the back door.

They both frowned when they saw the face of the butler, Anthony.

He looked straight at James and barked "Boy, you'd better get your ass moving and get the horses ready! Mr. Moody is ready to leave!"

James lifted his hat in acknowledgement as the old man continued to yell. He then turned to Chavez.

"Try not let it bother you, friend."

He said over his shoulder as he headed towards the barn "And wash yur' face. Don't go to town lookin' like me."

Meanwhile, Anthony was still yelling.

"Boy, are you listening to me?!"

Chavez looked at the old man's scowling face, and couldn't help but laugh at the fact that he was screaming like a little brat.

Anthony heard him and snapped "Quiet, Navajo!"

Chavez stopped laughing and frowned as an ugly grin spread on the butler's face.

"And clean yourself up. You look like shit."

As he then turned around to go back inside, Jean rushed out the door and ran into him, nearly knocking him into the dirt.

Anthony's face filled with rage as he completely forgot about Chavez. He grabbed Jean by the arm and just about to strike her when Chavez yelled.

"No la toque!"

The old butler turned his head towards the Mexican- Indian and glared at him. Chavez responded by glaring back.

Anthony slowly let go of Jean's arm and turned his glare to her. He then turned around and silently went back into the house.

Then, as if nothing had happened, Jean trotted towards Chavez and grabbed his arm.

"Come on then. You need to put on some better clothes," she said as she tried to pull him towards the house.

Chavez planted his heels in the dirt and yanked his arm from her.

Jean looked at him with surprise and put her hands on her hips.

"Now just what is the matter with you?"

Chavez glared into her eyes and said "You. Are you ever going to fight him back?"

Jean's face softened and she dropped her hands to her sides in awkward silence.

"Well?!"

"Why do you care so much?!"

Chavez sighed as he saw a tear roll down her face.

She turned from him and sobbed "It isn't such a big deal anyway. So what if he hits me? It's not the worst thing he could do."

Chavez managed to calm himself.

"Then why are you crying, amor?"

She turned and looked at him as she wiped her tears away.

"You still haven't answered my question."

"You haven't answered mine either."

"I don't care. I want an answer."

Chavez sighed again and walked closer to Jean. He surprised her a little as he took her in his arms and hugged her tightly.

Jean felt another tear roll down her cheek as well as his hand wiping it away. She felt the heat rise to her face as he planted a delicate kiss on her forehead.

They then let go of each other, and Chavez walked back to the house to get dressed in silence, leaving Jean outside.

Chavez rode next to the family carriage in silence. The cool air of the early morning had been replaced with the glaring sun. He felt sweat dripping down his forehead as he listened to Mrs. Moody complaining in the carriage. In order to salvage the last of his patience, he looked towards Jean who was riding her pony on the other side of the carriage, hoping to find a smiling face. He was disappointed by what he saw.

Jean had her head down, and her eyes were covered from his view by the rim of her straw hat. She too was dripping with sweat. Chavez, however, felt his stomach sink when he realized that her face was also wet with tears.

"And here we are," Chavez heard Mr. Moody say.

He looked up to see that had finally approached the town.

It was much bigger and livelier than he had anticipated. Many of the shops were new and painted in bright colors. The booming voices of street-side venders echoed, while children ran through the streets dodging horses and carriages.

As they passed through the center of town, Chavez noticed the sheriff's office as well as the county jail. He felt a fire spark in his belly as his eyes meet those of the man who had been haunting his dreams, and the same man who had nearly beat him to death on the beach.

"Howard Griffin," Mr. Moody said in a low voice.

The man was leaned back in a chair on the porch of the sheriff's office, and had a badge in the shape of a star on his chest.

Chavez glared at the man as a crooked smile spread across his face.

Mr. Moody noticed and said "It seems as though he's been made the new sheriff. Don't you worry about him, though. I'm sure the marshal is keeping a very close eye on him."

Despite Mr. Moody's words, Chavez couldn't tear his eyes from the gaze of Howard Griffin. In fact, he was relieved when the carriage turned the corner and he was made to follow on his horse.


	9. Ch6 Pt2 Fear the Star

I am soooooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry that this took so long. I literally just spend the past four hours writing in super sayan mode. I hope ya'll enjoy this and PLEEEEEEAAAAAASE leave comments and critiques! Thanks!

...

The old family carriage creaked as Mr. Moody brought it to a stop in front of the bank. As the man lifted his children from the structure, his wife managed to spit one last malicious comment on the poor old thing before stepping down herself.

"It creaks and makes for a very uncomfortable ride," she hawked.

Mr. Moody silenced his wife with a kiss on the head.

"Hush now, Dear. I have business in the bank to attend to. Take the children to have them fitted for new shoes. Take Jean with you."

He then looked to Jean and Chavez who had just tied their horses in front of the bank.

"Mr. Chavez, you accompany them as well."

Putting his hand it front of his face to hide his mouth from his wife he whispered "And keep an eye out for trouble." He winked.

Chavez nodded as he put a shadowy hat on his head.

Mr. Moody then proceeded into the bank.

Mrs. Moody let out an irritated sigh and herded her children around her.

"Alright then. You heard your father. Come along, Jean."

She motioned toward the nanny, but did not acknowledge her guard.

Chavez followed anyway, without a word.

As they approached the front door of the shop, Chavez noticed men, women and children staring at him with concern. He saw an elderly woman glare at him through the shop window with disgust.

Jean saw his and managed to say "Perhaps it would be best if you stayed outdoors."

"As if coming inside were ever an option, Jean," Mrs. Moody barked.

She gave him a hard look.

"Stay out here and stay out of everyone's way! Better yet, stay out of sight!"

Mrs. Moody then pushed her children into the doorway, and Ms. McCormick followed.

Chavez quietly obeyed, and tucked himself behind the shadow of a water barrel. While the air near the ground was dusty and dry, he couldn't help but find relief from the sun, provided by the shade. He realized how his eyes burned with heat, sweat and dirt as he noticed a small lizard scuttle across his boot. Chavez leaned his head against the wooden structure of the shop and closed his stinging eyes.

After a moment, he slowly began to doze off. His short moment of peace was interrupted by the distressed call of a voice he had grown extremely used to.

Chavez shot up from the ground and whipped around to see Jean and Mr. Moody's family standing on the porch of the shop, staring in fear towards the bank.

He drew his gun and fired a shot when he saw Mr. Moody pushed to the ground by a man that seemed familiar.

The warning shot had gotten the man's attention. He stared at Chavez as the Mexican-Indian stalked closer. He got a closer look at his face, and Chavez realized that it was one of the men who had beat him at the beach. This man also had the star of a deputy on his vest, and Chavez couldn't help but chuckle.

"What's so funny, Greaser? You just took a shot at a man of the law. I could throw your rotten ass in prison."

"I just couldn't help but think how sick I am of dealing with you people."

"Careful, Greaser. You'd better respect the law."

"I've had my fare taste of the law. I've even been a part of it for a short time. No, I mean men like you, who seem to see justice in beating a man half to death on the beach. If I can even call you a man."

The deputy growled as he drew his gun "I'll show you justice, you Mexican bastard!"

A firm hand grabbed his wrist as a fist met his jaw. Chavez was almost surprised to see Howard Griffin standing with his deputy's gun in hand. He had a malicious grin on his face as he looked at the deputy, who was now clutching his face on the ground.

"My apologies, Mr. Moody," he said as he cocked the gun.

"This moron is my new deputy."

Chavez turned back towards the shop. Mr. Moody, during the distraction, had managed to get back to his frightened family. Jean looked straight at Sheriff Griffin with a look of terror.

Mr. Moody said flatly as his nose bleed "You haven't been in office very long either Mr. Griffin."

"So you noticed," the Sheriff said, showing off the star.

"Well I'm quite honored to serve our city."

"As I am sure you are," Mr. Moody said.

Howard Griffin let out a mean chuckle.

"Good day Mr. and Mrs. Moody," he began to turn around and stopped.

He looked back, directly at Jean McCormick.

"You too, Ms. McCormick."

He whistled as he walked away, with his pitiful deputy following.

Despite the stubborn arguments of his wife and the nervous state of Jean, Mr. Moody made a point to make sure that all of the family's business in town was finished by the afternoon.

The group traveled back to the mansion in silence, as the children had fallen asleep and Mrs. Moody finally shut her mouth, much to angry with her husband to speak.

Chavez couldn't take his eyes from Jean, who had done nothing but jump at every sound and movement since the morning. When they finally arrived home, the young woman quickly put away her pony and took off towards the barn in wild tears.

Mrs. Moody scoffed "Useless girl."

Chavez was finally relieved of her presence as she herded her sleepy children into the house. Mr. Moody, however, remain and watched his family disappear into his home. He turned to Chavez.

"Go on then Chavez. Go calm her down and talk some sense into her," he said with a sly smile.

Chavez gave him a polite nod and walked towards the barn.

He couldn't help but stop in front of the barn door for a moment. He could hear Jean's soft cries coming from inside. Despite not even knowing what to say, he carefully pushed the door open and stepped inside.

She heard the door creak open and went silent.

"Jean?"

Chavez's stomach dropped when there was no answer

He thought to himself _"She's angry with me."_

"Jean, answer me. I know you're here, amor."

"Stop calling me that," she managed to say in a sob.

Chavez let out a sigh and climbed up into the hay loft. Jean was curled up on a pile of hay with her hands covering her face.

Chavez carefully inched closer to her.

"Jean," he said as he reached for her wrists.

When she felt his fingers on her hands she lunged out and pushed him away. She curled up even tighter and buried her face into her knees.

Chavez was sad that she pushed him away, but was not going to give up.

He crawled over to her again and whispered "Jean, please…"

As Jean's body finally relaxed, Chavez wrapped her up in his arms. She let in and rested her crying head against his chest as he stroked her messy hair.

They sat like this until it got dark. Jean was so exhausted from the events of the day that she could hardly walk. When they finally managed to exit the barn, Chavez picked her up and carried her to her room.

Chavez silently sat on the edge of Jean's bed with his back towards her as she brushed her hair. The silence was getting old to him.

"I understand now."

She stopped her strokes as she heard him speak.

"Why are you so afraid, amor?"

She looked at him with sad eyes and sat down next to him. She brought her cold feet up onto the bed and tucked underneath her white nightgown. It took her a moment to finally speak.

"Because, fear has kept me alive."

Chavez was horrified by her terrible logic. He stared at her and she turned her head away. He went to touch her cheek and she flinched. He took his hand away and thought for a moment.

"Why….are you so afraid of me?"

Jean heard this lunged to hug him with new tears streaming down her red cheeks. He was slightly taken aback, but Chavez hugged her back and let out a sad breath.

"People, especially those I've loved, have had a tendency to hurt me or leave me," she said through her sobs.

"Jean," he started but was interrupted.

"And, I'm afraid….that you will do the same."

His heart fluttered for a second.

_"__She loves me,"_ he thought to himself.

"Jean, look at me."

She sniffled as he brought her face up to look at him.

"Now….do I look like a man who would abandon or damage something that he loves?"

Jean's tears stopped as he spoke.

"If you really fear me for something like that….well….that's just not worth the energy because it isn't true."

She realized what he was trying to say and hugged him again. He returned her hug with an embrace he hadn't used before.

After a few minutes of silence, Chavez took her chin and brought her face closer to his. She saw something in his eyes that usually would have worried her, but tonight she wasn't worried about any consequences.

Jean's stomach did cartwheels as she was kissed for the very first time.

Chavez slowly broke the kiss, and then brought his lips to hers again. Before long they were completely unaware of any consequences and were laying down on the bed, wrapping each other in their arms.

Chavez reached for the oil lamp, and slowly made the room go dark.


	10. Young Guns Ch7 Three Bottles of Whiskey

Chavez and Jean woke up early the next morning naked in each other's arms. Chavez was the first to wake. He felt Jean's head resting on his chest and his stomach felt warm and happy. He let out a tired but content sigh as he lightly patted her head to wake her up.

Jean lifted her head and gave him a sleepy smile.

She moved closer to where her head could rest on his shoulder as she said "Good morning."

Chavez smiled and kissed her forehead.

"We'd best be getting up and around before anyone else does."

Jean sat up and stretched her arms as she asked "What time do you think it is?"

"The sun is just about to rise, so probably around six," he answered.

Then, after Jean had stretched, Chavez sat up and wrapped his arms around her torso. He placed his lips on the crook of her neck and gave her tender little kisses. She let out a happy sigh and kissed his head.

"I'd rather just stay like this all day," he said, earning a giggle and another kiss from his lover.

After a few minutes of playful kisses, the two finally dresses themselves and quietly went outside. They sat on top the coral and watched as the sun arose from the horizon. Chavez held Jean's hand as the orange light began to turn yellow. Before they went back to the house, where they would have to restrain themselves due to the importance of total secrecy, they shared one more kiss.

Just as they parted lips, they heard James approaching as he sounded a good morning whistle.

"What are ya'll doin' up and out so early," he asked once he was close enough.

Jean answered "Just showing Chavez a Galveston Island sun rise."

James chuckled "That's right. He's never seen a sun rise from our island. Well it's a good thing you got that out of the way, Jean."

He tipped his head back and let out a hearty laugh as Jean rolled her eyes and Chavez smiled.

When the ranch hand was done laughing he said "Any way, it's the boss's birthday today. He's having friends over for dancing and dinner, and get this, Chavez. He wants you and Jean to join them. Of course Jean will be helping in the kitchen, but ya'll get to sit at the big dining table and everything!"

Chavez gave him an inquisitive look and asked "Why would Mr. Moody want us to come to dinner, and how did he convince his wife to let us?"

"Well that's easy. He likes ya', and it's his birthday, not hers.

"I see. What do you think," he asked Jean.

She smiled and said "Well it's not like we can just say no."

Chavez smiled and asked "What about you, James? Are going to be there?"

"Pshh! Naw'. The boss and the misses don't have any interest in an old slob like me. Sides', I really ain't one for parties anyway. Jean, I'd go and help in the kitchen if I were you, and you might wonna' pull out something for him to wear. He can't go to a party lookin' like a greaser."

At that James strolled towards the barn as Jean gave Chavez an excited smile and ran towards the house.

Later that evening, Chavez inspected himself thoroughly in a mirror. Jean had set him out a pair of black trousers with a clean white shirt and a grey vest. His hair was also neatly pulled back and his shoes were shined. He gave himself a smile of satisfaction as he suddenly heard the door open.

Jean shyly peaked her head through the door and gave him a blushing smile.

"Well, don't just stand there. Let me see you," he insisted.

She slowly opened the door and stepped into the room.

Chavez couldn't help but grin at the sight of her. She had on a long blue skirt, and a white Spanish blouse that hung over her shoulders. Her hair was up as usual, but it was a bit more loose, and he had one wavy strand hanging in her face.

"I know it might seem a little unbecoming of a lady, but it was all I had," she muttered as she stared at the floor.

Before she could even look up, Chavez had his arms wrapped around her waist.

"I think you're beautiful, anyway."

Jean looked at him and her already red face turned a darker shade of crimson. Just as he was about to kiss her, there was the sound of a little voice near the doorway.

The two looked towards the door and saw Carrie, standing there in a little yellow dress, with her arms crossed and a suspicious look on her face.

"You two are awfully close. Aren't you," she said with a huff.

Chavez chuckled as Jean stooped down and picked up her niece.

"I'll be down stairs in a moment," he said as she winked and left the room.

When Chavez came down stairs, Anthony was holding the door open for an older couple who were talking and smiling as they entered. With them they had a young boy, who looked around with curiosity. When Chavez caught the boy's eye, the couple noticed.

Anthony seethed with jealousy as the man introduced himself and shook hands with Chavez. The man also introduced his wife and the boy, who turned out to be their youngest son.

"Our little Johnathan here, was a surprise," the woman chirped in a friendly voice.

"A blessing to both of us in our old age…" she tried to continue, but was interrupted by the boy.

"Are you a Mexican?"

This earned laughs from his parents, as well as a chuckle from Chavez.

"Mexican-Indian, actually."

"Do you scalp people?!"

This made Chavez laugh, and he patted the boy on the head.

He jokingly said "Only on Wednesdays."

The couple laughed and shook hands with him again, and then went to the dining room. Chavez watched them go with a smile. He didn't mind meeting folks who weren't hateful towards him for his race.

He then heard someone clear their voice from behind him. Anthony stood strand as a post, looking into the Mexican-Indian's eyes with profound intensity. Chavez only turned and stared straight back.

"Don't be getting big headed, boy. Your nothing but a Greaser, and that's all you ever will be."

"You're a persistent old man aren't you?"

"Hold your damn tongue before I rip it out," the old man scowled.

All Chavez could think to do was roll his eyes and walk away, but as he entered the hallway, he felt the old man's foot catch his ankle, and he fell to the floor with a thud. He looked up at Anthony, who was now standing right over him with a malicious frown.

Chavez simply let out a sigh as he got up. He brushed himself and quietly walked away, kind of embarrassed that the old man had been able to trip him.

When Chavez entered the dining room, there were three visiting families at the table along with the Moody's, as well as Jean and Carrie.

Jean flashed him a smile while Carrie only scowled at him. Chavez happily sat down next to Jean and gave her a smile in return.

They spent the next two hours, laughing and listening to idle chatter over dinner. The older couple that Chavez had met before, told stories that made everyone, even Mrs. Moody laugh.

Mr. Moody requested "Jean, would you be so kind as to go and cut slices of cake for everyone?"

Jean smiled and said yes. Chavez watched her closely as she walked into the kitchen. As the chatter picked back up, Chavez continued to stare at the door. He hadn't seen anything of Anthony in a few hours, which made him wary.

The older man from earlier saw his distant gaze and inquired "You're awfully fond of that one, aren't you?"

Chavez now had a vulnerable look on his face. All eyes had been turned towards him. He looked around with nervous eyes and scanned everyone's faces. Mr. Moody had his eyes fixed on Chavez with a half surprised glint. His wife, however, narrowed her eyes while Carrie and the other two little girls giggled and rolled their eyes. The other adults in the room almost leaned forward in interest.

Chavez thought to himself _"Shit! This could be bad for us!"_

He continued to be silent. Finally, Mr. Moody broke the silence.

"Well if I didn't know any better, I'd say you fancy the girl, Chavez," he said as he couldn't hold back a smile anymore.

Chavez was still silent, and the room erupted into laughter. He felt his stomach churn as he noticed Mrs. Moody glaring at him.

It was then that she spoke "Enough of that, William. That's so inappropriate!"

He laughed "You can relax, Chavez. I was only yanking your chains."

"I didn't mean that," Mrs. Moody angrily muttered under her breath.

Chavez felt his heart stop, as he heard a sudden crash coming from the kitchen. Before he, or anyone else, could even turn to look towards the door, Jean flew out of the kitchen, falling backwards as plates of cake crashed and shattered on the floor. She landed on her back on the glass covered floor, lodging several pieces in her back, and cutting one of her wrists.

The room was dead silent, until Mrs. Moody stood strait up out of her chair and screeched "Jean McCormick, what is the meaning of this?!"

Then there was voice from the kitchen.

"Damn!"

Chavez's vision turned red, and his body froze in pure fury, as Anthony slowly stepped out into the dining room. The old butler stared at Jean's unconscious body, and then at Mr. Moody.

He stuttered "Sir, I…I…"

"Anthony? You did this," Mr. Moody asked in shock.

Before he could answer, Chavez flew from his chair and landed a solid punch on the side of the man's head, sending him crumbling to the floor, unconscious.

Chavez was quick to take her down to her room where he could look at her. With Carrie hot on his heels, he sat her down on the bed and franticly searched for a rag. The cut on her wrist was bleeding badly, and she had just woken and was crying in pain.

Mr. Moody sent his children to find James, so that someone could keep an eye on Anthony. He then pursued Chavez down into the servants' quarters with his wife furiously protesting behind him. He entered Jean's room to see Carrie crying at the side of the bed, and Chavez desperately pressing onto Jean's wrist with a rag.

Chavez looked at him with anger and fear in his eyes.

"Maybe I should fetch the doctor," Mr. Moody suggested, but was again intersected by his wife.

"Don't worry about getting a doctor, she'll be fine! I want to know what is going on here!"

He tried again "What if I at least got some medicine and…?"

"No! She's fine! Sew her up on the bed for all I care!"

"SHUT UP," Chavez half shouted, half screamed.

"Just get Carrie out of here! I need a needle and thread, a bowl and knife, bandages and rags, and as much alcohol and pain killer you can find."

Mr. Moody ended up having to drag Carrie out, kicking and screaming.

He later brought five bottles of whiskey and some pain medicine for headaches.

Once the bleeding was under control, Chavez took a bottle and put it to her lips to drink. He then made her take all the pain medicine. He then made her sit up so he could look at her back.

"Ch-chavez…" she weakly sobbed.

"Don't try to talk! Save your energy!"

Chavez then took the knife and braced himself.

"Forgive me."

With one swift motion he sliced off her blouse, and then her corset with another. He flipped her onto her stomach so that he could get the glass out of her back, but she struggled against him. He ended up having to hold her down while she sobbed violently. When the medicine and booze kicked in and she was quiet, Chavez carefully started taking glass out of her back.

It took two hours and three bottles of whiskey to fix Jean up. When Chavez was done, the bed and floor was covered in blood. He looked at his crimson stained hands and wanted to sob like Jean had.

He cleaned her up and brought her to his room, where she could rest on a clean bed. Mr. Moody came to check on them and saw that she was going to be alright.

"Should I get Carrie," he asked.

"No. Jean needs to rest and stay still, but do tell her that her aunt is going to be okay."

Mr. Moody nodded his head and went to tell Carrie the good news.

Chavez looked Jean over one last time. He had wrapped her entire midsection in bandages in order to limit her movement, but her chest, shoulders and arms were still bare, and she was beginning to shiver. Chavez removed his vest and shirt. The white fabric of the shirt was stained with blood, but he wanted to cover her up. He managed to set her up one more time and slip the large shirt onto her small, hurting body.

Jean managed to give him a weak, drunken smile as he tucked her beneath the sheets. He heard a knocking at the door way. He turned his head to see that it was James.

The ranch hand spoke quietly "Sorry to turn your attention the other way, Chavez, but Mr. Moody says there's unfinished business to attend to."

Chavez sighed and said "Tell him I'll be out in a moment."

James nodded and left as quietly as he had come.

Jean slowly turned her head to look at Chavez.

"I think you've saved me again," she weakly chirped.

Chavez looked at the bandages on her wrist and felt like he would break down.

He tried to sound cheerful "J-just returning a favor, amor," but his voice cracked, and a tear fell down his face.

She then tried to move her injured wrist toward his face, but he gently caught her.

"Don't… don't try to move."

Jean obeyed and brought her arm back into a resting position. Chavez wiped his face dry and kissed her head.

"I love you. I'll be back shortly. Try to get some sleep," he said.

Closing her eyes, Jean whispered "I love you too."

...

Thank ya'll so much for being so patient with me. It's my senior year in high school and life is a little crazy. I do plan on finishing this story, and I might even start a new idea that I had for young guns afterwards. I'll try to have the next chapter within the next few weeks. (But no promises on that one) Please leave lots of reviews and comments. I love feedback more than anything in the world. Thanks guys!


	11. Young Guns Fanfic Ch8 Pt1 Up In Flames

Please leave comments and critiques because I feel like this one was written way to fast. I did it in like a few hours. Let me know if it seems rushed. I'll try to get the next part of the chapter out as soon as I can. Life and school have been crazy. Thanks.

...

Chavez went up the stairs of the servants' quarters and exited through the back door of the house, wanting to have just a moment alone to clear his head.

He almost busted the door off its hinges as he ran out into the night air, and found himself gasping for air as the rage boiled in his stomach and lungs. The angry young man then slammed his fist again the stone wall of the house and let out an agonizing wail. He had almost failed to protect what he loved most. He wasn't even sure that she would recover. As he realized this, tears began to fall down his face as he worked up the gut to go and face the man who had almost killed his love.

Chavez walked around to the other side of the house and met James, Mr. and Mrs. Moody and Anthony. Anthony was sitting on the steps of the porch with a rag on his bleeding head. He looked up at Chavez with an expression that hadn't been seen before. The Mexican-Indian looked into the man's eyes, and saw fear.

James and Mr. Moody attempted and failed to restrain Chavez as he approached the older man. Anthony was quickly greeted with another solid punch to the head.

He tried not to look up as his attacker screamed "Look at me!"

Anthony slowly brought his head up and stared into Chavez's eyes. He was silent, but Chavez could see that he was on the verge of begging for mercy. However, the young greaser was not deterred.

"Chavez, that will due. Anthony, you are fired. Take your belongings and your horse and be gone by tonight," Mr. Moody ordered.

Everything was silent for a moment, until Chavez spoke to Mr. Moody.

"Tell me. Have the boy and his family gone?"

Moody nodded yes, with a look of concern for Anthony in his eyes.

Every heart skipped a beat as Chavez slowly pulled out a knife from his boot.

"Good."

He went to stab the butler, when he heard a click from behind his head. He slowly turned to see James pointing a rifle right at his skull. He could see the other young man shaking.

"Come on now, Chavez. I don't wonna' have to do this," his voice quivered.

He heard Anthony breathe a sigh of relief as Mr. Moody tried to step forward and said "James, lower your gun!"

The young man shouted "Shut the hell up!"

Horses could suddenly be heard approaching the mansion. Chavez heard drunken laughter and gunshots as Howard Griffin and his deputies came closer.

"Everyone get inside and grab a damn gun," he shouted over his shoulder.

The Moody's obeyed and hurried into the house.

Chavez turned to see Anthony stand up with a crooked smile and a glint of anticipation in his eyes. James just stood there and continued pointing the gun at him, and he felt himself tense with realization.

"What is this, you son of a bitch?!"

"I SAID SHUT UP!"

Chavez felt a gun hit the back of his head, and blacked out before he even hit the ground.

Chavez felt his nostrils sting, and he woke up to the taste of ash and smoke in his throat. As he managed to open his eyes, he saw that the house had been burned to the ground. Jean was next to him, holding something large in a bundle. There was blood on her hands. A few members of the staff were standing around the wreckage, yelling and crying out things that Chavez couldn't quite understand as his head swam. Mrs. Moody held her children as they sobbed into her skirt. Her eyes were wide with fear. Mr. Moody, Howard Griffin, James and Anthony were all gone.

As he finally came to his senses, he heard Jean wailing in what sounded like agony. He hurried to her side, but something stopped him when he got to her.

The shirt that he had used to cover her was draped over the bundle in her arms. Chavez carefully lifted the cloth away and was horrified by what he saw.

Lying in the woman's arms, was the black, burnt corpse of her niece.

"CARRIE!"


End file.
